


Omori's Law

by CKBookish



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne-centric, Drowning, Gen, No man's Land AU, Stephanie is dead in this one, canon adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKBookish/pseuds/CKBookish
Summary: Deep in the sewer's under Gotham, Batman is trapped.  There is no back up, no Robin.  He is faced with the single truth that he tried to teach each of his partners... You have to save yourself.
Relationships: Bat Family & Bruce Wayne, Gotham City & Bruce Wayne
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590904
Comments: 15
Kudos: 144





	Omori's Law

**Author's Note:**

> So this is not canon in the least. I don't even remember where Stephanie or Jason was in the No Man's Land run, but its also been awhile...sooo. I am not 100% satisfied with this but I've been working on it for so long it needs to go. Anyway hope y'all enjoy. Comments as always are treasured and kudos fortifying. 
> 
> Batman bingo 2020 prompt: Drowning

**Omori’s Law**

_I’ve withstood the quake but now I feel too weak_

_all I can do is wait for the dissipate_

_The aftershocks to peak_

_And when they do_

_I hope to find_

_That this weight won’t topple me again_

_and I can stand as I did before_

* * *

Bruce woke as he always did, suddenly and to full alertness. This of course was not a natural ability for the man but one he had spent years perfecting and conditioning himself to do. He lay with his eyes closed as he took in the smell around him. He was not in the manor. Alfred would have murdered him, if he let the house smell like this. And he wasn’t Bruce Wayne at the moment, as he could feel the weight of his uniform. 

So where was he? 

Was he captured? 

He was being held down by something. The faint sound of water reached him, but nothing else. 

He was alone. 

Batman’s eyes snapped open, and he was met with endless darkness. This didn’t bother Batman in the least. The Batman lived in the dark, thrived in the shadows. What did bother him, however, was the fact he didn’t seem to be able to move. Well, he could wiggle his toes and fingers, but he was pinned by something heavy and hard. So not captured or held hostage, but simply trapped. Not only was he held between a literal rock and a hard place, but he could feel blood rushing to his head, he lay at a slight incline. Bruce could already feel the beginnings of a headache. He could almost imagine Dick laughing at him. Bruce never did understand how the boy could spend so much time upside down without getting the least bit sick. 

Bruce blinked to activate his hands-free comm system before he remembered. There was no one to call. Bruce sighed and refocused on feeling out the caved in tunnel that was now lying on top of him. Aftershocks still ravaged the city. Bruce hoped the men he had been chasing made it out before the sewer’s gave way. 

Whatever was pinning him was sharp. He wondered if he was bleeding. There wasn’t much he could do right now, if he was. His head, he realized was not simply pounding from the blood rushing to it, but it had been hit. Part of his cowl was torn away. His left ear and most of his left temporal lobe were exposed. His right lens was cracked. He could just see faint lines in the darkness. Further exploration told him he had torn something in his elbow. Alfred was going to be mad when he saw the state of him. 

Bruce blinked. No, Alfred would never know. 

He took a deep breath and began to experiment with his movement. He could move his arms a bit, but his waist was tightly pinched. There was some room to lift his left foot. He could _just_ move it up about six inches before his shin would hit something. He could also slide his right foot to the left about twelve inches. 

He took inventory of the space with his hearing and through feeling the cracks and crevices. As he did it became clear the sound of water was not so much a drip as a steady stream. This meant two things. There was a way out. And if he didn’t move _soon_ he was going to have to put his breath holding skills to good use. 

Bruce wriggled his arms to just above his waist where the weight of stone was heaviest. He pushed and pulled to determine where the rock was loose and what the easiest way to free himself was. It was as he pulled on the rock, he felt it. A piece of metal was pinned between two pieces of rubble wedged on top of him, It slid free. The scraping sound was loud and Bruce pushed the rock back quickly to cover his hips once more. He was too slow. Bruce bit back a yelp as the metal cut through his uniform. It didn’t go in very deep but it was heavy enough he feared if he tried to move the stone again it would run him through. 

He eased up pressure on the stone and felt the metal go deeper. He pushed it back. Great now he was stuck holding the rock. 

Bruce closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. There were times when he really wondered if it was worth it-- worth the constant calamity and discomfort, worth the pain and sacrifice. 

At the moment he was certainly feeling enough pain. His whole body was aching, but his hips were screaming. His elbow was shaking and his _head_. His head was pounding. He could picture Jason’s whole body shaking in a silent laugh. He would find this funny. Mr. always prepared, was trapped and didn’t know what to do. Maybe it was cruel to envision his second child laughing at his misfortune, but Bruce would have given anything in that moment for the imagined picture of his son to be real. It would mean help. 

Well… maybe. Jason might sit back laughing and watch him die. It really depended on the day. 

The top of the cowl felt cold. The water had risen to reach it. Bruce could hold his breath for a long time. But he couldn’t hold it forever. There was no one coming. No Robin to save him. No Justice League to rescue him. Not even Alfred waiting at home. 

Bruce wondered if this was it. It seemed he had few choices left to him. 

He could hold the stone and let the water rise. 

He could let go and bleed out. 

Bruce could almost hear Tim telling him how long it would take to die either way. Tim would know that sort of thing. Bruce hoped he would never need to use that knowledge in his new life away from Gotham. Bruce wondered if he could somehow contact Tim now. Just to hear his voice. Tim had a soothing way of talking. It was factual and steady. If Bruce called Dick he would be emotional, he would yell or cry. 

Bruce didn’t want to die hearing his son upset. But he couldn’t call either of them. The signal was blocked. They had made sure when the quarantine first went up that nothing could get out. 

There was no signal to send.

He was going to die alone. 

It was odd. The thought didn’t really bother him. Dying. Not like it had before. None of them were in Gotham, apart from Jason. They were all safe outside of the quarantine. He had made sure they were all out. Alfred had been the most difficult to get to leave, but in the end Bruce had managed it. 

His family was as safe as he could make them. Dick didn’t need Bruce anyway. He was grown and independent. Tim was retired and had his Father. Alfred would be able to retire, no more late nights, no more stress. Maybe he would move home to England. Jason, well Jason would still be the Red Hood. Maybe with Bruce gone he would finally feel free enough to be-- What would he be? 

Bruce wondered if-- when the quarantine lifted, and the city was back under control-- Dick would come back and try to reach out to Jason again. He certainly hoped so. He hated to think of either of them alone, without any family. 

Bruce’s elbow shuttered. 

The water had reached the tops of his ears. It was odd how sensitive such a small part of his skin was. He wondered who would find him. Or perhaps he would simply stay buried beneath the city. It seemed almost fitting. The city he’d given himself to was the thing that would kill him in the end. Not the villains, not the common crooks, but the rock and water that the town was built on. Water trickled in his ear, his head shook involuntarily as the cold flooded the ear canal. The sound of water became warped as air fought to escape the water and pressure increased near his ear drum. 

He felt suddenly afraid. Strange how something, as small as water in his ear, could make his chest tighten the way it did. Strange how it made his carefully controlled breaths quicken. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine it was just water filling the bath tub creeping in his ear. But it wasn't.

He didn’t want to die here. He hadn’t done enough yet. He wanted to do more. He wanted to have more Christmases and birthdays. He wanted to know what new songs would come out next year. He wanted to see Stephanie’s baby turn three. He wanted to end the quarantine and hug Dick. He wanted to see Tim graduate high school and eat Alfred's baking again. He wanted to see the city from the rooftops and solve his endless pile of cases. 

The mission wasn’t complete. 

Bruce had certainly given himself fully to the mission. Save Gotham. It had seemed so obtainable. He of course had been young and full of hope. Not that anyone had ever really seen his actions as an expression of hope. No, hope was for Superman and shiny places. What Bruce had was a dirty gutter that he dreamt to be a glittering home. Over the years, his hopes at showing the world the beauty he saw in Gotham dimmed. Batman in turn transformed into a warning, something to fear entirely. The city had become harsher over the years. It's people more cynical. Bruce had changed along with it. He knew that. He could feel it. It was easy to look at his early days working with Dick and see he had been softer. He had been more trusting and had believed in more goodness. Bruce could even pinpoint where he had reached the point of no return. 

Losing Jason had been a blow to Bruce both on a personal level and a professional one. Losing his son was of course something that would affect him in millions of intimate ways, but Batman had also learned that the evil that had infected the world was one he couldn’t defeat. This was perhaps the hardest for him to overcome. Even now with Jason back, Batman could never unlearn the truth. 

So he had been reinvented. What had been a miracle was Robin had too. Tim had applied himself to the healing of Batman. While it would never be more than a bandage, it had held the dark back. Robin had always been the embodiment of hope, this time however it was not just the cities but Bruce’s himself. 

So when Tim had left, Bruce had found himself grasping at straws. Perhaps that was why he had allowed Stephanie to don the mask and cape. Maybe it was how she seemed to be the best and worst of all her predecessors. She had the energy of Dick, and thoughtfulness of Jason and the determination of Tim. But she had also had all their brashness. Like Jason, she had died. So now Bruce lay pinned in the sewers of Gotham and he could only think one thing. 

Robin wasn’t coming. There was no back up to save him, no one to call for help. He had always told his partners, they could only depend on themselves. Well this time, it was him who had forgotten the lesson. 

Bruce laughed. The sound was eerie in the cramped space, twisted by the water filling his ear. Water brushed his cheekbones. He wondered what Stephanie would say. Would she laugh at his stupidity or would she be mad at him for giving up so easily? Would she shout at him? He didn’t know her well enough to know. Water was brushing the tip of his nose. He had to make a choice, he had to decide now. 

Drowning wouldn’t be so bad. It was said to be almost peaceful. Like falling asleep. Bruce however, could only imagine his lungs burning for air. He had trained himself to fight the reflex to inhale underwater that most people gave into involuntarily. He would not drift off. His body would stay fighting because that is what he had always pushed it to do. He could drop the stone and let the metal do it’s work. He knew what blood-loss felt like. That would feel almost normal. 

Water pooled over his lips, and he still hadn’t decided. He pulled his head up to give himself more time. As he did the rubble under him shifted. Bruce froze and waited for pain. 

He waited some more. 

He wasn’t crushed by stone. He wasn’t impaled on rusted metal. He, holding the stone very carefully moved again. The ground beneath him shifted more. It was tight, very tight, but he could move. Using his legs he pushed himself slowly away. The metal that had cut into him already, dragged on his flesh and pulled at him. Bruce gritted his teeth and pulled himself free anyway. He twisted his body so that he could still hold the stone in place until his legs were completely out from under it. Ever so slowly he released the stone. The sound of metal filled the now almost full pocket that he was trapped within. When the walls didn’t fall in on him, Bruce took a breath and sunk beneath the water. He would search for the way out. 

He couldn’t give up. Stephanie he decided would have told him to ‘put on your big boy pants and just do it’. She had told him that a lot. She was right of course. He had to do it, there was no one left if he gave up. The water was murky and dark, but he could see a gap where light, very dim and distant, shone. He moved towards it. After all, he still had a city to save. 

  
  



End file.
